The 2nd Quarter Quell
by revenge-is-sweet-98
Summary: Read all about the events of the 50th Annual Hunger Games- from the reaping to the very end. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

Katherine POV

We sit in the meadow, in comfortable silence. Henry's buried in the black leather book with slightly yellowed pages. It was from the apothecary shop, but I usually let him use it to record information as he has a lot more knowledge for this kind of thing. I play with a blade of lovegrass, then finally lean over to take a look at what he's doing. I see a bunch of blank ink drawings, different flowers & plants, with words printed neatly underneath. Henry shades lightly, working on a new drawing. I trace a faded flower on the book with my finger, than read aloud, "Primrose."

I look up to see him smiling down at me."It's a flower, he says, then flushes slightly. "No,really?" We laugh, then I look back down to the book of plants.

"Primrose," I repeat, savouring the word. "Pretty name for a kid, yeah?" Henry nods. "Yeah, a delicate flower. I like this one too..." He flips the pages and stops on a page, pointing at another beautiful flower. "Katniss. A pond plant, often supplying-" I read, squinting when a familiar voice speaks.

"Well, I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Maysilee POV

My eyelids flutter and I yawn, stretching. Rays of sunlight from the early morning sun stretch across the bedsheets and blankets. I glance at the alarm clock- it's barely seven in the morning. I can hear the vague sound of a bell tinkling, and my mother's voice sounding out a cheery greeting. Someone must have just entered the sweet shop my family- the Donners- owned.

I leap out of bed, take a bath, then change into a thin black shirt, brown jacket, pants and boots. Pulling my blonde hair into a high swinging ponytail, I snatch a glance in the mirror when something glistening catches my sight. It's my mockingjay pin, it's been in the family for generations. A mockingjay, songbirds, the result of a a mockingbird and a jabberjay. It flies in a circle of gold, and it's breathtakingly beautiful. I grab it from the dressing table. In the mirror, I see my twin sister stir in bed before sitting up slowly.

"Mornin', lazy bones," I say, fastening my pin, grabbing my blowpipe and heading for the door of our bedroom. Marianne scowls at the pipe, and I shift it from my left hand to my right. It's a real beauty, my blowpipe. It was fashioned and given to me by Henry Everdeen, one of my closest friends from the Seam for my fourteenth birthday last year.

"It's not late, it's not even half past seven. And I hate than you're going hunting again. We don't _need_ it." Marianne shook her beautiful blonde hair back as she climped out of bead slowly. The sunlight reflected off her wavy hair, flowing past her shoulders.

"It's just for_ fun_, Marie. Henry says I'm getting better with my aim, that I'm a natural," I grin, " And of _course_ we don't need it, I pass whatever we catch to Henry or anyone else in the Seam. I'm not staying here to sell sweets, no thank you, you do that." I walk down the hallway of our house as I speak, whistling to my songbird as I walk by. Marianne trails after me, continuing to go on about how I flout the rules, and so on.

I nod absently, then swing the front door open to see my seventeen year old neighbour Boyce Undersee, right at my door, fist poised up to knock. Marianne lets out a squeak and dashes back into our room, no doubt to fix her hair. I grin knowlingly, then smile at the rosy cheeked, plump and short boy. He returns the smile, then tuts at my attire, knowing that I'm going hunting. I roll my eyes. "Nobody gives a damn about the rules, Boyce. _Relax_. Marie's up in her room, just knock. Sorry, gotta run." I pat his shoulder and duck past him, rushing down the porch stairs/ he shrugs, waving, before entering the house and closing the door behind him.

I dart in and out of the morning crowd, nodding at the many familiar faces. I stop at the Mellark's Bakery. " Three loaves, fresh." I place a note on the counter. Frances Mellark appears. I don't know him well cause he's a year older than me, but just about everyone in school knows he's got a major crush on Katherine tavern, my best friend. Of course, it's no wonder, Kate's the beauty of our town. She lives two doors away from me and Frances blushes everytime she drops by the bakery for pastries.

"Say hi to Kate for me." He says shyly, and blushes an even deeper red. "Oh and good luck to her...and you too, of course. May the odds be ever in your favour!" He smiles, and I laugh lightly. It would have been a lot funnier, but the way Frances says stuff... somehow it's so quiet it kind of kills the joke.

I run a bit more, heading for the rolling hills, taking short cuts through the woods. By the time I reach the meeting place, Kate and Henry are already there. Henry's staring over Kate with a fascinated look on his face, as she, totally oblivious, bends over a black leather book. I choke back a snigger and step out from behind a tree, smirking.

"Well, I hope I'm not interrupting anything,"

**Yayy! New fanfic;) To any of the TUQOCHB readers, SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING in like... forever. THANKS SO MUCH FOR ALL THE GREAT REVIEWS:) Sorry, I just have major exams and all... so yeah, I hope you enjoyed it, comment!**


	2. Chapter 2

Katherine POV

Henry and I look up, and for some reason my cheeks burst into flames when I see Maysilee smirking, wiggling her eyebrows. "Having fun without me, lovebirds?"

Henry and I are good friends, and he's really handsome, but you know...just friends. Close friends.

"Aw, shut up, Donner. Gimme that!" Henry lurches forward and inhales deeply in the paper bag. "Mmm. Nothing like the smell of fresh bread on reaping day. Ol' Mellark feeling generous today?"

"Naw, it was Frances. And all I had to do was let him know I was meeting up with Kate," Maysilee and Henry burst out laughing as I roll my eyes and break the soft crust of the bread. They've invented some kind of imaginary story about Frances Mellark crushing on me... Um, no thanks. Suddenly I look up, frowning.

"Henry, exactly _how_ many times did you enter?" I ask, and the laughter ceases. Henry kicks the grass as May and I stare at him worriedly. As we're on the merchant side of District 12, we've only entered the times that we have to- four times. But Henry, he's eighteen, which means seven compulsory times, plus the tesserae...

"Fifty-two," He mutters, and May and I gape at him. "Relax! There's thousands of slips in that freaking bowl." I'm making little gasps, struggling to breathe. Fifty-two. _Fifty-two?!_

_"_Thousands, you hear me, Kate? Thousands! It's okay!" Henry pulls me into a hug, and I realise I'm shaking. "Calm down. Shh..." He whispers, and I let out little weird sobs. May pulls us apart and stares at him.

"It's the Quarter Quell, Everdeen. Remember? They announced it weeks ago. It's not twenty-four kids this time- it's forty-eight. That means four kids are going this year. Nobody'd want to take the risk, so less people would sign up. I don't care if you want extra food- Kate and I could help! I'd say the odds are freaking _not_ in your favour today. Are you crazy?" May snaps. I take in the words, even more dazed. My hands tremble. I can't lose Henry, I can't!

"Shut up, May. You're scaring Kate," He hisses back. He pats me on the back, and May soothingly smoothes my hair. "It'll be fine. Stop worrying." But he doesn't seem so sure himself.

That's typical Henry- self sacrificial, brave and courageous. I take in a shaky breath, then slowly bite into the delicious bread. We sit in silence, lost in our thoughts.

"Nice dress." Henry smiles and I blush, smoothing down my vintage blue dress. It was made from rare material, and was really expensive, according to my mother. It's my favourite.

We wave at Martin Hawthorne, who's Henry's best friend. Standing with him is Hazelle Curtis, who's two years younger than me and Martin's neighbour. I don't know either of them well as they're from the Seam, but they've nothing but kind to me everytime I come across them.

I step away from Henry, waving and squeezing his hand good luck. I join Maysilee and her twin, Marianne Donner, in the sea of sixteen year olds in their best outfits. We exchange anxious words, we may only have been entered the required four times, but the gloved hand of Kava Romero just might snatch up the slip and change our lives forever.

That's right; Kava Romero's the lady who has been grabbing the stupid little slips of paper that are somehow deadly enough to murder two people from our district almost every year. District 12 has a "winning streak"- which is of being the district with the least victors in Panem history. We haven't had a victor in twenty-seven years, and we've got only 2 victors, just one male and one female.

There's a small murmur as Kava hops up the stage with amazing balance and precision- it's a miracle in itself that she does not go tumbling down like anyone not from the Capitol would if we wore those killer heels- they are, after all, at least thirteen inches high. It's absurd.

Camera crews perched everywhere focus their cameras on the stage at Kava- the reaping, is of course, televised. Wouldn't want the dear, bloodthirsty citizens of the Capitol missing a minute of every year's murder of twenty-three teens- and in this case, forty-seven.

Kava introduces our "dignified Mayor Kushmore" onstage, and he waddles over to the mike. He pulls out a card from his jacket, looking immensely uncomfortable about being choked to death by the tight, frilly orange bow tie around his neck. He coughs twice, clears his throat, then repeats everything he says every year.

He tells the history of Panem; after North America was destroyed through myriad disasters, Panem was founded by the "glorious" Capitol.

"Panem was separated into 13 districts, each of which serves a specific purpose for the society, and is ruled by the Capitol. However, half a century earlier, the Capitol's control was contested by the districts, which rebelled. It was called the "Dark Days"."

"The twelve districts were defeated and a thirteenth district was obliterated as warning against further rebellion. After this spectacle, an annual event was held. Every year, each district must supply, through a reaping process, two tributes, both aged 12 to 18, one male, one female. They are to fight to the death in a large outdoor arena until one victor remains. This is called the Hunger Games. This year is the fiftieth year of the annual Hunger Games- the 2nd Quarter Quell. Every twenty-five years there is a Quarter Quell edition of the Hunger Games. Quarter Quells mark the anniversary of the districts' defeat by the Capitol, and include special celebrations. The Quarter Quells involve twists that makes them more disastrous or difficult to compete in, or watch. This year, it is the 2nd Quarter Quell; four tributes were chosen from each district instead of the usual two to remind the rebels that for each Capitol citizen killed, two rebels died. Thus, twice as many people will be reaped to be entered into the arena."

Mayor Kushmore tugs on his bow tie nervously, gazing out at the sullen, glaring District 12, all gathered together and yet not making a single sound. The Capitol has their "annual traditions", and we have ours. Every year, some of the bloodthirsty districts, such as One, Two, or Four, cheer like mad. Us? We are the district that stays stubbornly mute at the reaping. The silence is so deafening, it roars through the square. Kava Romero titters nervously.

Clearing his throat once more, a red-faced Mayor Kushmore reads out the Treaty of Treason, which ended the war, and then reads the list of past District 12 victors. Sitting behind the stage, just below the Capitol emblem, is 44 year old Shay Trivario and 53 year old Faye South. Faye has a blank, closed off look on her face, as if she was shutting herself out from the world completely, and Shay had dozed off a long time ago. It's a pathetic sight- Districts 1,2 and 4 have loads of victors and most of the time, they roar and shout and pound their chests. But you know what? I'm glad our victors are like that.

Kava Romero takes the stage again, the fateful moment has come. My hands find Maysilee's and Marianne's, we're clutching one another so tightly that my knuckles are white. "Ladies first!" Kava chirps, bouncing to the female reaping bowl like she's high- she probably is, like almost every citizen in the Capitol.

Her fingers swoop over the pieces of paper. Once, twice. I hear my heart thumping loudly, panic stricken. Who will it be? Who will be the first person to be handed a death sentence? She snatches up a slip of paper with a swift, quick, motion and opens it.

It's a girl from the Seam. She's in the fourteen year olds crowd, and bursts into tears, clinging onto a girl next to her. _Stop crying, you idiot,_ I think, but sympathy tugs on my heart and I have to look away. Finally she's dragged on stage by Peacekeepers, tears pouring down her cheeks. She whimpers as Kava Romero passes the microphone to her, and whispers her name into the mike. Then she backs away, her eyes darting wildly around. Her eyes carry the same look prey do when they know that they are being hunted and have no hope of survival.

Kava Romero lets out a high-pitched giggle and turns back to face us."Well, let's give it up to our first courageous female tribute of District Twelve, Cosi Church!"

We are deadly silent. Only Cosi's snivelling can be heard. Kava Romero titters nervously. "Now, moving on..."

Her hand reaches deep into the bowl, scrabbling around. She finally tugs something out, but two slips are stuck together. With difficulty she pulls them apart, and randomly drops one back into the bowl.

Whoever's slip that was, just had the closest shave to death ever. Kava unfolds the paper.

My mouth runs dry.

And then she reads out, "Maysilee Donner."


End file.
